I M Perfect lady

Tag: out

  • Returns to being good.

    What a multifaceted catch 22 it is when society is asking that the children of abuse be the ones to stop it. To be the ones to name their perpetrator, to come out of their cages of captivity and walk freely with courage seems insurmountable.

    What it fails to realize is the condition of the conditioned mind and how it has programmed the child or the adult child to bow down to authority, to keep silent and suffer in silence.

    We have been taught by experiences to go it alone and to keep to ourselves our selves, to not expose or share the feelings part of us, but instead walk around with a veneer finish that covers our truths.

    We have lived mostly as the veneer and have not allowed the real self to peep through and now in order to stop the abuse we have to completely reverse this.

    The veneer has to fade to the back and what comes forth is all we have tried to keep hidden. We have to now present to the world the very thing that terrorized us.

    Imagine? We are the ones who stop the monster, we whose power they took, now have to come forward fearlessly.

    And yet, as odd as this seems, as backwards and as upside down, the very step in sharing your wounds is the very thing you need to begin building your strength and courage, it will help define who you are from the base of truth.

    To speak your truth of who you are and what happened to you, who you fear and why, are truthful utterances of your journey in life, your biography and pathology, what has made you you. You then are able to see and feel that IT isn’t you that is bad, but them. You are not the problem, they are.

    And, by having a veneer, also shows the lack of support and caring you had. It literally shows how untreated you are.

    If, you had to ‘hide’ your abuse, it shows that you lived in an abusive home. For if you lived in a loving caring home, the abuse would have been treated, you would have been lovingly cared for and nurtured and the Bad Man/Woman would have been put away as so not to harm another.

    When the bad man/woman is not put away, we are left to feel bad and actually are told to put away our wounds.

    What an odd show and tell it now requires in order to stop more generations, we have to show who the monster is and then our wounded self returns to being good.

  • My Body, My mind and My Spirit.

    Something magical happens when you are forced, as in my case, to stand without secrets, to be bare unto the world, to have nothing hidden out of sight, when your worst fears and beyond are realized, you are exposed and free.

    I didn’t seem to have a choice, my incest was uncovered the same time that my father was exposed as a pedophile, and yet in the moment of time, while it seemed as if I would die in shame, I sprung forth with a new resolve to live openly and decided I would carry no more secrets in my pocket.

    I would instead own this legacy of abuse and I would live my life fully aware of where I came from and how it formed me into who I was today. I understood all my idiosyncrasies and me perfectly, they were all birthed in abuse.

    Once I accepted that all the mess was from where I grew, I could then begin to grow in ways that were different.

    While you are holding on to secrets, the secrets are holding on to you and you are not free to heal and move beyond them, but once you agree that it is time for you to accept the truth of your roots, you begin changing out of abuse.

    How tragically sad that we can’t share with the world our deepest wounds that unlike cancer it is a shameful disease and while we keep it hidden in the deep pockets of our bodies, our bodies are not free our spirits are not free and we are in a prison of silence.

    Yet we hold the key that unlocks the door of shame. We have to be brave enough to align ourselves with our past’s reality. We have to have the courage to look upon the secrets that our families carry, our legacy that few will speak of but all know.

    The truth is what sets you free…and the willingness to lose all you are, to become someone you have never met, the person you were prior to abuse.

    My body and I have an agreement, we will no longer hide truths, we will speak our feelings always, regardless of the consequences, we have a bond now, a sacred bond, we are one…my body, my mind and my spirit.

  • Live in life.

    When I sort mail, I stand in a U shaped area (Case) with six rows of little slots, one slot for each mailbox all in order of my route.

    An apartment complex of 10 was added to the beginning of my route and I had to make room for it by moving every slot about 10 or so inches to the right, starting with the last one.

    It is surprising how small of a shift there was and how it threw my whole memorizing off, all my instincts of knowing are no more, I have to relearn it all again.

    I wonder how long it will take for my mind to become comfortable with this new routine? What an incredible mind that it can relearn and toss out the old obsolete info that it will follow if you are determined.

    My head actually hurt again from having to concentrate and do the hunt and search routine, and by the end of two and half hours it was already catching on.

    The name would appear and I would know which way to turn, it remembered to remember there was a new place to go to.

    The flexibility of the mind is similar to the body, it will follow your lead, and it is much more your desire to learn than its ability.

    You can become comfortable in a new routine, all it take is time and the willingness to try.

    In a week or so, I will be able to almost mindlessly toss mail, and it leads me to wonder, if you are not putting new things into your life, are you almost on Autopilot?

    What keeps you repeating the same things, being comfortable in the rote like life? How is it that we feel most at ease when we are mindlessly following our normal routine?

    It seems so counterintuitive to living to be on remote, just repeating and repeating, it is like we are stuck in a grove in an old Record Album, ‘same life, same life, same life.’

    Isn’t it odd that we call this living feeling the most comfortable with ‘No Change’.

    And can you actually call it living if there is no growth or change?

    Just as my mind was brought to the present with the slight changes in my case, I am sure that by doing new things in other areas of my life, my mind will awaken in the present and engage in a new way.

    Just as I do yoga for my body, I will have to bring my mind to new places to give it exercise too…I am open to the new possibilities.

    I guess it is up to us whether we coast along or look for new ways to live in life.

  • Cheering for the Butterfly!

    We would rather be ruined than changed;
    We would rather die in our dread
    Than climb the cross of the moment
    And let our illusions die.

    ~W.H. Auden

     

    As I sit in the graveyard of my illusions, I am left with merging emotions, crashing upon each other, overlapping – sorrow and freedom, sadness and joy, feeling left out and being spared, all swaying within like ghosts.

     

    Memories of happier times try to overpower awareness of reality’s raw experiences; a game of pretend almost arises, like an abused woman who refuses to see the man who beat her, by focusing on the good times.

     

    Hope plans a future that isn’t to be, sorrow knowing you can never go home.

     

    Being sprung free and yearning for the cage.

     

    Celebrating while crying.

     

    Unable to firmly grasp one without feeling the loss of the other.

     

    It feels like I am dying while alive, grieving for my own self.

     

    Having one foot in the grave of my old life, while learning to walk in my new.

     

    The hardest part is to let me die, to be strong and keep killing the illusion, the dysfunctional relationships, letting them go on without me.

     

    I wish I could say I am tough and this is easy to feel the sorrow and pain as another section of my life dies…and I am left in the space of empty.

     

    The wise say that without change we would have no butterflies.

     

    But the time between caterpillar and butterfly is you are neither, suspended in time…

     

    You don’t fit with the caterpillars anymore, and you still have no wings to fly.

     

    In a cocoon I live, one life not finished and new one not fully begun.

     

    Suspended in soup of transition.

     

    Crying for the caterpillar and cheering for the Butterfly!